


Learning Curve

by LilyK



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Drama, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:18:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: After Ann Holly breaks it off with Doyle, he takes the comfort Bodie offers.





	Learning Curve

"Go away, Bodie," Doyle said from between clenched teeth, so angry that he was barely able to spit out the words.

Doyle was too irritated to be more than momentarily surprised at the level of animosity he felt for Bodie. The feeling flashed through him when Bodie slipped a friendly arm around his shoulders, and he immediately shrugged off his partner's touch. How dare his supposed best friend have the audacity to even try to comfort him! After all, Ann left because of Bodie, because of what he'd done. If Bodie hadn't followed Cowley's orders, hadn't gathered up the information on Ann's father, then she wouldn't have left him. It was all Bodie's fault, and for that, Doyle despised him.

He revelled in the flush of righteous indignation that coursed through his body, and he shuddered with the force of that emotion as he stalked away. Doyle barely covered three strides before he paused. Almost immediately, his rational mind, the part he wanted to ignore, niggled at him, telling him exactly what he didn't want to hear, didn't want to believe: that it wasn't Bodie's fault at all. It was his own. Always had been, and from the looks of this latest cock-up with Ann, he had no one to blame but himself.

With an irritated sigh, Doyle chanced a glance backwards. From Bodie's stance, Doyle knew that he had been hurt by Doyle's dismissal of his offer of comfort. He also knew that Bodie wouldn't say a word about it. Bodie would let him off. As usual. The power he knew he had over his partner gave him a great deal of satisfaction, and for a moment, he actually wanted to bask in that power. Suddenly disgusted with himself, the stab of smugness was quickly replaced by guilt. His shoulders slumped for a moment before he walked back over to his friend and slung his own arm around the tense shoulders. Bodie immediately relaxed, accepting Doyle's unspoken apology.

Doyle shook his head in exasperation as he considered how much longer he was going to continue to hurt his partner, his best friend. And he also wondered how much longer Bodie would be willing to let him. They exchanged a quick glance, came to a wordless understanding, and started walking down the street together. As they walked, Doyle considered his predicament: he knew that there would come a day when Bodie would finally reach the end of his limits and tell him their relationship was quite over.

But apparently, from the looks his partner was throwing his way, today wasn't going to be that day. He dreaded it. Dreaded the idea that one day Bodie would tell him to sod off for good. The day Bodie walked out of his life forever. Something he knew, deep down, that he truly deserved. He was a rotten friend.

"Pint?" Doyle asked hopefully, knowing full well that he wasn't entitled to have Bodie in his life. Not after this last catastrophe, with Ann. Not after he had tried again, and failed again.

Bodie's eyes lit up and he nodded happily. "Definitely. My treat."

A warmth suffused Doyle's chest. It happened when Bodie was like this, close and caring. He wished he knew exactly what he felt when his partner was like this, but every time he tried to examine the feeling, he panicked and pushed the thoughts harshly away. Still, Bodie was now happy and smiling, and Doyle couldn't help but return the infectious grin. "You're a bleeding pillock."

"Cheers," Bodie said agreeably. "My local or yours?"

"Yours," Doyle said. "You're buying dinner."

Doyle knew what it meant, picking Bodie's local and informing him he'd be paying. Bodie knew as well. They'd end up back at Bodie's flat, and there, his best friend would make him forget, even if for just tonight. And he would welcome it. Welcome the touch of Bodie's hands, the rough play of them against his skin. Doyle knew that for Bodie, it was the only way he knew that would bring Doyle some measure of comfort and peace after yet another failure. Would make him forget this entire mess, for a little while at least.

Doyle saw the smug grin play across Bodie's lips, and he didn't miss the twinkle in his partner's eyes. Why in bloody hell Bodie let him do this was beyond his understanding. But right now, he was grateful that Bodie was willing. He didn't know what he'd do when that fateful day finally came. When Bodie walked away without looking back. Tonight, however, he didn't want to think about that. In fact, he didn't want to think about anything other than mind-and-body numbing sex.

As they climbed into Bodie's car, Doyle once again thought about the fact that he'd messed his love life up royally. What he didn't know was how to fix it, or himself. Maybe he never would.

\---------------------------------

There was too much time to think on a boring stake-out. Doyle hated it when Bodie was asleep and all he had to pass the time were his own thoughts. Invariably, Doyle's musings turned to his disappointing love life.

After Ann, there'd been Claire and Judy... Doyle sighed with irritation at himself as he ran through the list. Who else? Oh, right. Betty Lou and that daft ex-hippy bird, April-Rain. What was he thinking with that one? Still, he'd felt compelled to try. Even now, in spite of his failures, he wanted all of the things he'd dreamt about as a lad: someone of his own. Someone to love. Someone to come home to; to share his life with. With a derisive snort at his own idiocy, he shifted in the passenger seat, accidentally jostling his sleeping partner.

Bodie woke instantly. "What?"

"Sorry, mate. Go back to sleep. Quiet as a grave."

"Sounds maudlin. Nothing, eh?" Bodie sat up and stretched, groaning as he flexed cramped muscles.

"No. We're off in an hour. 2.9 and 4.4 are on the roster for the day shift on this bloody boring obbo."

"Thank God for small favours."

Doyle nodded. "There's some coffee left."

"Nah. Have to piss already. Any more and my bladder will burst."

"Bush right over there. Just be quiet."

"Would never have thought to be quiet on a surveillance op, Raymond. Ta for the advice."

"Wanker."

Bodie grinned, smacking Doyle's arm before he slipped out of the Capri. Back in a few minutes, he stretched out as much as possible in the cramped seat. "Time?"

"Forty-five minutes left. And don't keep asking me."

"Hungry?"

"Starving."

"Breakfast?" Bodie cast him a speculative glance. "Or do you have plans?"

"No plans."

"What about -- what's her name?"

"It's off."

"Oh. I didn't know."

"No matter."

"Ray-"

"Leave off, Bodie. I'm fine."

Bodie shifted, turning toward him. "I have the pantry stocked. We'll go to my place. Eggs, bacon, sausage, even a block of that tofu shit you like. Sound good?"

Doyle studied Bodie for a long moment, knowing exactly what his partner was offering beyond breakfast. Feeling the need for some of Bodie's brand of rough comfort, he finally nodded.

"All right."

Bodie smiled as he gleefully rubbed his hands together and tossed out a theatrical tooth-filled grin.

Doyle laughed at Bodie's pleasure at his simple acquiescence.

\-------------------------------

Doyle shuddered against the sheets, sweat pouring from his body. He lay, arms and legs splayed out, breathing harshly as he recovered from Bodie's vigorous assault on his body. His cock was spent and his balls empty. It felt good to forget. Forget about his unfulfilled love life and his never-ending search for that elusive something to make him feel complete.

"Good, was it, angelfish?" Bodie drawled, a satisfied grin on his face.

"You know it was."

"Happy to oblige."

"Moron," Doyle muttered sleepily, his eyes drifting shut.

"Ray... Come on, mate. It's getting late."

"Hmmm?" Doyle opened one eye. "It's barely past noon."

"Yeah, but we were up on surveillance all night, and I'm bloody tired."

"You mean I was up all night. You, my friend, were asleep."

"Sleeping in the car doesn't count."

Doyle chuckled. "I'm comfortable. I'll sleep here."

"Doyle."

The warning tone was unmistakable. Doyle rolled to his side and glared at his partner. "Why not?"

"Can't sleep with somebody in my bed."

"I've seen you sleep with birds."

"Either hit the sofa or go home, Ray."

Doyle blinked. "You're serious."

"I'm tired."

"Bodie, why don't you ever let me stay afterwards?"

"What are you on about?" Bodie let out an irritated sigh as he rolled to his back. He flopped an arm across his eyes as his other hand dragged the sheet over his body.

"I want to know why you never sleep with me."

"Go home, Ray."

"No."

"Excuse me?" Bodie abruptly sat up. "This is my flat and my bed. I'm not arguing with you about this." Bodie rose and strode to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Doyle lay very still, wondering what the hell had just happened. All he'd done was ask Bodie if he could stay. It wasn't a big deal, was it? But when he thought about it, he suddenly realised that in the past few years, ever since they'd begun this sexual relationship, Doyle had yet to spend the night in his partner's bed. In fact, he had never even been asked to stay. He'd just taken for granted that he'd go home, or sack out on the sofa. Why was that?

Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin on a kneecap. Strange, he'd never even thought about it before now. He and Bodie only slept together -- well, fucked was a better description -- after he'd suffered yet another bump in the road that was his dodgy love life. He'd dump a bird, or more than likely, been dumped, and Bodie would be there, offering sex as comfort. And good sex, at that. Bodie was more than willing to suck his cock and screw his arse. And he was willing to do the same for Bodie. But until now, he hadn't realised that Bodie never offered anything more. And until now, it hadn't bothered him. Very much, at least. He was generally too wrapped up in his own misery at yet another failed relationship to even notice.

Doyle rose and snagged one of Bodie's robes from the back of the wardrobe door. He walked to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Bodie? We need to talk."

"Go home, Doyle."

"Now."

"Sod off!"

"I'm not leaving until we talk!"

"Then I'll sleep in the bloody bathroom!"

"Come on, Bodie. Please."

Doyle leaned his forehead on the door and waited. He could be a stubborn bastard when he needed to be, and today, he needed to be. Finally, after what seemed forever, the door opened, almost spilling him onto the floor. He clung to the sleeves of Bodie's robe as strong arms caught him.

Bodie pushed him upright and away in one sure move. "I'm too tired for this."

"Answer me one question."

Bodie rolled his eyes and leaned against the door frame, arms crossed. "One."

"Why haven't you ever kissed me?"

Doyle almost flinched when Bodie launched himself from the door frame and was on him in seconds. His eyes blazed with anger, but his words were very soft. "Go to hell."

"Bodie, this is important."

"Not to me," he said coldly.

"You're a liar." Doyle saw Bodie visibly start, and when his fists clenched, Doyle forced himself to remain patient and laid a hand on Bodie's arm. "Are you going to hit me?"

"Don't tempt me."

"Why? All I asked-"

"I know what you asked!"

"Then answer me!" Doyle inspected Bodie's face intently, searching for answers, but seeing nothing in the cold glare but anger. "All right. Then I'll answer the question for you. You've never kissed me, never asked me to spend the night, never -- touched me afterwards because those are things that lovers do. And you and me, we're not lovers, are we?"

Bodie's glared, eyes cold. "What do you want me to say? I let you fuck me. Isn't that enough?"

"No, it's not. Not any more."

"Then you're out of luck, mate. Because that's all there is." At Bodie's angry dismissal, Doyle merely waited, a picture of patience, until Bodie poked a finger into his chest. "Got it? There's nothing else!"

"You're lying again."

"If you say that one more time, Doyle, I swear, I'm going to..."

"Punch me? Go ahead. Take your best shot. I deserve it. Go on. Make it a good one, because if anybody needs a good belt, it's me." The anger in Bodie's eyes bled away into confusion, giving Doyle the courage to forge on. "Since you're not talking, I'll just jump right in. Might as well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say. All right. Here goes. And since you don't seem willing to talk, I'll just handle the entire conversation. I'm already a daft nutter, might as well go all the way."

Doyle took a deep breath and slowly expelled it before he said, "Bodie, why don't you kiss Doyle? Because, arsehole, kissing's intimate, for lovers, and Doyle's too much of a moron to be Bodie's lover. Doyle flits from bird to bird, searching for that elusive special someone. That one person who wants him, and needs him, and loves him for himself.

"So Doyle screws Bodie, and lets Bodie screw him, just to be fair, but then he moves onto the next bird. Doyle is an idiot, because the one person who loves him and needs him and wants him is constantly left behind. Constantly has to settle for the left-overs. And worst of all, he has to watch Doyle make an idiot of himself over and over again, while all the time Doyle never even notices that the one person he needs and wants and loves is right in front of him."

Eyes latched onto Bodie, Doyle saw Bodie's face turn stark white with his lips pressed into a tight line. He looked ready to smash Doyle's teeth in. Still, unable to stop now that he'd finally realised what a stupid bastard he'd been, he bravely forged on, regardless of the consequences.

"Bodie doesn't kiss Doyle or ask Doyle to spend the night, or the rest of his life with him, because Bodie knows what always happens. That Doyle will take what Bodie has to offer for that moment, and then leave him behind... until the next time he's feeling sorry for himself. Doyle, that is, not Bodie. Then he'll come crawling to Bodie, who makes him feel loved for a few hours. And that's the way it's worked for years. That is, until now."

Doyle looked into the eyes of the man who meant so much to him. He felt his heart give a lurch at the stricken look on Bodie's face when Bodie realised what Doyle had said; had finally admitted. It wasn't very often that Bodie had to struggle so valiantly to contain his emotions. Bodie, who never showed that anything bothered him, who stayed aloof and in control, was on the edge and determined not to fall. Bodie, so strong and caring and courageous. How could Doyle not have known? But when he thought about it, he realised he'd always known and had been too scared to admit it to himself. It was Bodie who loved him. And it was Bodie he loved.

With a touch to his partner's cheek, and with as much sincerity and caring as he'd ever felt in his entire life, Doyle said, "And Doyle knows he's been wrong and stupid and a moron, and asks, no, begs Bodie to forgive him for being so bloody stupid, and to let him spend the night. And kiss him like a lover. His only lover. Please."

Bodie's eyes were suspiciously bright when he wrapped his hands in the dressing gown and pulled Doyle to him, pressing their lips together. Doyle shuddered at the passionate, tender kiss. He'd expected something -- crude and overpowering, but instead, he was getting sweetness. And it felt wonderful. They'd already done the rough stuff many times, but this... This was breathtaking. Bodie's kiss was amazing in its gentleness, in the love it conveyed. Doyle felt his breath hitch.

Bodie slowly released him from the kiss, but not from his embrace.

"Christ, Doyle."

"Yeah."

Bodie's mouth was on his again, and he let Bodie control the kiss. Bodie needed this. He'd waited patiently for Doyle through all of his ups and downs, and he deserved to have his way -- this once, Doyle thought with a grin.

Releasing his lips, Bodie pulled back enough to look at him. "What?"

"Nothing. Just... surprised."

"At what?"

"You. You're -- nice."

Bodie raised an eyebrow. "You expected yet another fast shag?"

"No, moron. I -- I don't know what I expected. But this is good." Doyle moved even closer and rested his head on Bodie's shoulder. "God, Bodie." He slipped his arms around Bodie's waist and held on.

"Hey." Bodie returned his embrace. "Want to spend the night?"

Doyle let out a small chuckle. "Yes."

Bodie gave him a small squeeze before he moved out of the embrace to take off his own robe. Eyes locked, Doyle could see the happiness radiating from Bodie as he pushed the material away from Doyle's shoulders. Together they lay down on the bed, and Bodie arranged Doyle to his liking: their bodies spooned together with Bodie behind and Doyle nuzzled against him. Doyle smiled when Bodie wrapped an arm about his waist and squeezed as his lips touched the back of Doyle's shoulder.

Doyle slipped his hand into Bodie's and laced their fingers together. He lifted Bodie's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

"'Night," Doyle said softly.

"Good night... love."

Doyle smile was finally broken by a wide yawn, and after a final wiggle, he drifted to sleep in Bodie's arms. Exactly where he was meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> First published in the zine, Secret Agent Men 10, published by Requiem Publications.


End file.
